


The PL Red City AU

by Spadder101



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Character Death, JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE AND ASK ON TUMBLR IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS, Murder, NOW THIS ONE'S REALLY A MESS, Poisoning, Violence, YOU CANT REALLY GATHER MUCH IN THE WAY OF PLOT, technically, yeah its murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:10:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13766766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spadder101/pseuds/Spadder101
Summary: Red City's the sort of place you'd go if you wanted to kill. Laws are few and far between, and people care very little as no one enforces them. It's designed as a build-off from the real world, almost like a simulation, but not. Everything that happens in Red City is very real, and very dangerous. To go there is to have a deathwish- unless you know what you're doing, of course.





	1. FOREWARNING

THESE ARE FOREWARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER

 **Sneaky bitch Clive** : Mentions of severed limbs, guns, mentioned mass-murder

 **Oh I’m sorry am I crossing AUs here?** : ATTEMPTED murder, violence

 **With all due respect, brother, you’re a fucking moron** : Mentions of guns, betrayal...

 **Don’t worry, I just threw up my spleen** : Poisoning, vomiting, blood, death (in that order!)

 **Too late for you, Professor!** : Guns, being shot

 **Sure flashbacks are fun but how about reliving the past?** : Guns, violence, axes, explosives

 **BIG TITAN BULLSHIT** : Violence, swords, guns, murder


	2. Sneaky bitch Clive

Clive Dove was a smart, manipulative man. He was talented in mechanical things, building laser weapons, armour, and entire battle suits for use in the Red City. Of course, the battle suits were only for him. Outside of Red City, Clive sold his weapons, supplying the masses with powerful weapons including laser machine guns, assault rifles, even grenades. He had so much money, all he could really think to spend it on was his own battle suits, and his Red City team.

 

He took to noticing people he thought had potential. What that potential was, no one really knew. Clive often failed to explain himself, seeing no point in it. If he was justified in his mind, then they should trust his judgement.

 

Clive’s eyes were currently on someone he already knew. They probably didn’t know him, but that meant nothing to him. Convincing him and his particular blue apprentice would be a hard job, so Clive was waiting for the right time to strike. How would he present himself upon appearing? How could he convince the two to come with him  _ into _ Red City?

 

Almost everyone knew what it was by this point. Clive would have to think of something  _ particularly riveting. _

 

A grin crossed his face as he thought of his plan. There was a particular…  _ mystery _ surrounding Red City. A team that had once been top of the leaderboard very suddenly disappeared, and no one seemed to replace them. Of course, rumours passed about saying that one person had survived. But, of course, no one knew who that person was.

 

Now, Clive knew that  _ Professor Hershel Layton _ and  _ Luke Triton _ couldn’t turn down a puzzle. And this one, a completely unsolved one, more extravagant, more dangerous, more  _ extreme _ than any others… they’d be  _ drawn _ to it.

 

Clive had no shadow of a doubt about that.

 

All Clive had to do was to plant that little seed of curiosity. Once they were in Red City, Clive had them  _ exactly _ where he wanted them. He’d use them to take out other teams, convincing the two- and more, if they brought anyone else- that  _ those _ were the enemies. That the people on the top of the leaderboard had to be the biggest suspects, and that talking to them was out of the question.

 

The latter was somewhat true. Red City wasn’t a place of words. No, Red City was a place where actions spoke volumes, and  _ everyone _ was always ready for a fight.

 

Clive would think about how to convince them to join him later. He couldn’t turn his attention too far away from his gun business, as it was what got him most of his money. Red City didn’t pay unless you took out someone  _ important _ . And of course, that was why Clive was trying to convince Hershel and Luke to join him. With them on his side, he could slowly whittle at the top teams… until his was at the top.

 

He was currently carrying a large amount of metal back to where he stayed outside of Red City, a simple flat. As he walked, unfortunately, he crashed into someone.

 

“My apologies- I should really look where I’m going-” the voice said as Clive desperately picked up his metal.

 

“No, it’s my mistake! Should’ve left space to see.” Clive flashed them a grin, before looking at them entirely.

 

Well. Clive had luck on his side today. Stood before him was Hershel Layton, tipping his hat in some kind of fluster. Luke was beside him, looking just as flustered.

 

“My apologies anyway. It seems you have your hands quite full, would you like some help?”

 

“Oh- that’d be fantastic, thank you!” god, Clive was good at this act.

 

As Clive passed the metal between the two, he shook hands with them both. “My name’s Clive!”

 

“I’m Luke!”

 

“Hershel, but… most people call me Professor Layton.”

 

Clive couldn’t help the smile coming to his face. He tried his best to make it look as unthreatening, as… sincere as he could. After all, his devious plan had inadvertently just started.

 

“I’ve heard about you. You’re quite into puzzles, aren’t you?”

 

“Well, I do like to solve puzzles. You wouldn’t mention something like that unless you knew of a puzzle.”

 

Clive hummed slightly, shrugging. “I don’t know of a puzzle, but I know of a mystery.”

 

“What kind of mystery?”

 

“A disappearance.” Clive motioned with one hand to follow him, and the two began walking along behind him. “You see, I make weapons for Red City. I’m sure you heard about the team that completely disappeared off the map?”

 

Now it was Hershel’s turn to hum. “I have. Fleetingly, but I’ve heard. There were rumours that someone survived it.”

 

“Exactly. And I think I know the only lead into  _ what _ caused their disappearance.”

 

Clive glanced around, before picking up his pace. “I’ll explain at my place, if that’s satisfactory?”

 

Luke glanced up at Hershel, and the two seemed to nod in silent agreement.

 

“Alright. Lead the way.”

 

\--

 

Clive had put all of the metal back where it was meant to go, and as he walked back into the main part of his flat, he began to feel… apprehensive. What if they saw through it so easily?

 

‘ _ Don’t think about that, Clive. Focus. _ ’ 

 

Hershel seemed in no rush, and neither did Luke, so Clive stayed silent for just a little longer, before starting to piece together a sentence.

 

“I… know who survived the… attack. I know who it was.”

 

God, Clive couldn’t even bear to look at the two. He was starting to get flashbacks.

 

“Can you tell us?”

 

Clive nodded, pulling up his left blazer sleeve, revealing a tattoo of a blue sword emblazoned with a red lizard. “Me.”

 

That tattoo had been the sigil of the lost team- it didn’t have much of a name, a lot of people called it Justiciar- all of their members had it put onto both their left and right arm.

 

“What about your right arm? It should be on there too, right?” Hershel sat forward a little, and Clive flinched away.

 

“Aha- ah… that’s…” Clive paused, pushing away his uncertainty, and pulling off the leather glove from his right hand.

 

It revealed pure mechanics. As he pulled his blazer up, it became apparent that Clive’s  _ whole _ right arm was a prosthetic- a mechanical version made by him.

 

“What happened?!” Luke asked quickly, before covering his mouth.

 

“Happened a bit fast for me to know. I was the first one hit in the entire raid. Axe came sailing through the air, straight into my shoulder. Pinned me to the wall. Would’ve died if someone hadn’t wrenched it out of me.” as Clive talked, he felt less and less emotions towards the whole event. “I crawled my sorry ass somewhere safe and waited until I died- either I’d bleed out, or I’d be found by them. But that never happened.”

 

Clive began to pace around the room, thinking hard. “You see, Red City is strange, in that you seem to… recover quicker while there. It’s something that helps people get addicted. To know that you can survive normally fatal wounds if you’re fast enough to somewhere safe.”

 

There was a pause, and Clive let out a huff of laughter. “I waited a day before making my move. The whole base was teeming with my enemy, and all of my team lay dead. My escape was a miracle and a half, and I’m lucky to even be here.”

 

“If you might forgive me for saying, but… why do you keep supplying the Red City with weapons if you know that the ones who killed your team are still about?” Hershel asked, and Clive felt a smirk spreading onto his lips.

 

“Yes, why… well. I decide who I supply and who I don’t, and there happens to be  _ one _ particular patron of mine who is… somewhat renowned in Red City.” Clive paused to laugh. “Tell me if you’ve heard of him before. Silver suit, grappling hooks for maneuverability, ability to change their armour into a plethora of weapons…”

 

“The Titan. Yes, they’re quite a mystery. No one knows who’s underneath that suit, and I think I would like to see…” Hershel trailed off, before tipping his hat. “I’m certain there is something deeper than this, Clive.”

 

“You’re perceptive, Professor.” Clive stopped moving, turning to Hershel and Luke. “I’m asking your help. For you to find me in Red City. I know the whole city like the back of my hand.”

 

“Isn't that dangerous? I mean- with people like the Titan walking about and your team's murderers…” Luke stopped.

 

“With me around, Luke, you'll be safe. Trust me on that.”

 

“Hm. So, when should we meet?”

 

“Thursday. There's an entry point to Red City near here. If you meet me near it, we'll go in together.”

 

Hershel nodded and stood up, tipping his hat. “We'll see you later.”

 

“See you.”

 

As the two left, Clive felt his grin turn to a smirk. He found himself only slightly stifling his laugh, thinking on his plan.

 

“Oh, Clive. Look what you've done now.” then, Clive properly started to laugh. “It's maniacal! It's as diabolical as the Elysian Box itself… you've outdone yourself.”

 

The smirk stuck on his face.

 

“Yes, I will see you later, Hershel Layton and Luke Triton, and much  _ sooner  _ than you think!”


	3. Oh I’m sorry am I crossing AUs here?

Red City had generally stable code. It hadn’t gone wrong since the early days, and Clive actually relied on part of it to not break while he was in his Titan suit. If it were to go wrong, He’d be pretty much fucked. His Titan suit actually blocked his nametag and team from showing up when in view. If the coding were to glitch, it might break that function, and Clive couldn’t afford for people to know who he was.

 

Not while he was rampaging. Which he currently was.

 

It had started off as just a simple mistake he’d made, and his mind blew it out of proportion. He’d started to see what possible problems with his plan could be brought to light with that mistake. What could ruin the whole plan, and everything Clive had been waiting for, all these years. He’d found himself clenching his jaw, snapping replies and just being all-around angry.

 

When Hershel and Co. had gone back into reality, Clive had stayed in Red City. He selected his Titan suit, and with a sharp exhale, he jetted out into the streets of Red City, raining fire and fury upon anyone in his way. Laser bolts deflected straight off him, and with each shot fired at him, Clive became angrier and angrier to the point he was even starting to lose control of himself.

 

The flurry of attacks, ranging from bolts from his machine gun to slashes from his light sword were hurting everyone around him, and the more he hurt, the better he felt. The whole feeling of  _ killing _ actually roused something in Clive, and in turn, more rage boiled through him. He felt- and even was- unstoppable.

 

Unstoppable, until he found himself on one side of the street, rocket launchers mounted to his right arm, facing- Hershel and Luke.

 

Luke seemed to glance around, before saying something to Hershel, who put an arm around him.

 

Clive didn’t move from his spot, internally fighting with himself. Should he fight now? Could he stop himself from hurting them? He wasn’t sure. The two didn’t seem to move, and Clive found himself slowly advancing on them.

 

There was a sudden lapse in coding. Something caused a malfunction, and Clive was jumped back a few paces. For a few seconds, he was aware that his blocking function had turned off. If they saw him, they could see his nametag. Kneesocks McJustice. It wasn’t a very intimidating name, but if it was above the Titan. Oh fucking lord, Clive would be ruined.

 

Hershel and Luke had turned away, clearly not seeing it. A sly smile took over Clive, and he jetted forwards, towards the two. The feeling of being hit in the side of the head with something turned his attention upwards- to a cloaked figure leaping across the buildings. Clive stopped, twisting around and grappling up to the top of the buildings. Then, he jetted after the cloaked man.

 

“P-Professor! Clive said he would keep us safe- where was he?!”

 

Hershel tipped his hat, holding Luke’s hand and pulling him to somewhere safer. “He might not have known we were in danger. Though he may know the whole city, it’s very large. To get from one end to the other might take half an hour, and Clive’s jet shoes could probably half that at most.”

 

Hershel refrained from telling Luke what he had seen. Clive’s very own nametag had appeared above the Titan for only a few seconds. Some glitch in the system must have made it happen, and Hershel wasn’t certain if it was passing the wrong nametag to the wrong players, or if there was an underlying reason for it.

 

That perhaps Clive was the Titan.


	4. With all due respect, brother, you’re a fucking moron

Hershel was normally very perceptive. He could notice the small things and build entire ideas off of them, his reasoning normally sound. However, there was one thing he couldn’t yet prove.

 

If Clive was really on their side or not.

 

Some of the things Clive had done seemed out of place for someone on their side. What he had said, his sudden disappearances. In the simplest way, Hershel thought it odd. Why was Clive so secretive sometimes, yet quickly changed to oversharing in an instant? Why had he made a point of mentioning his business selling guns, then within the same few instants given them some without cost? Was there some underlying scheme he had that was using them all?

 

Clive seemed closest to Luke in the whole group. He harboured a healthy fear of both Flora and Emmy- though Hershel was uncertain why- and made a point of only talking to them when necessary. Desmond, however, was an entirely different kettle of fish. It almost seemed like Clive respected him, but he said very little to the man. There was some chance he was scared of him too, but Hershel doubted it. Something about the looks Clive gave him said something entirely different.

 

Was it loathing?

 

Hershel wasn’t very good with emotions. He wasn’t really up to feeling anything most of the time, because it might remind him of all the traumas of his life. It was fair enough in his eyes.

 

But Clive remained an enigma. What was going on in his head? What was he planning? Thinking? Feeling? Hershel felt only frustration towards this. He couldn’t figure it out, and it stressed him.

 

“That’s the face of someone  _ puzzled. _ ” came the voice of Desmond from beside Hershel.

 

He hadn’t even noticed him, really.

 

“There’s just something I can’t figure out. Something about Clive seems to-”

 

“He is strange, isn’t he? He thinks I don’t notice those glances.” Desmond hummed a single note. “It’s something between hatred and fear. I couldn’t place a name on either one without being unsure.”

 

“I thought so too. Sometimes his manner seems… unfitting for someone on our side. He overshares sometimes, but others he doesn’t share at all.” Hershel frowned a little as he thought. “He was quick to tell us he was the last remaining person from Justiciar, yet refuses to tell us if he has any connections in Red City now. It’s obvious that he spends a lot of time in there, what with the ease he manages to get around. He has the whole map memorised.”

 

“And if the event happened five years ago, as he said, and Clive claims to be twenty-two, then he must have been seventeen when it happened. He’s had five years to memorise the map.” Desmond glanced towards the door.

 

“Should we ask him, or-”

 

“No. Asking would be a terrible idea. He’d then know you were onto him, Hershel, and we can’t afford to have you dead.”

 

“Yes, Desmond, but I don’t think  _ he _ can afford it either. There has to be a reason as to why he brought us here. There has to be  _ something _ .”

 

“Ah, so that’s the lost puzzle piece. You’re uncertain if you can prove that he’s on our side or not without knowing his intentions.” Desmond turned Hershel’s chair towards him. “So we need proof. To make him slip up somewhere and say something that can either confirm or deny our fears.”

 

“It would be nice to have something like that, at least, but I don’t think he’d talk to me or you without being extremely careful. It’s almost as if he’s anticipating someone to find out…”

 

“Get Luke to talk to him.” Desmond shrugged, and Hershel shook his head. “Why not?”

 

“I wouldn’t put Luke in danger like that. I couldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

 

“Then what are we to do? Stay silent and fester in our fears or actually stand and  _ do something? _ ”

 

Hershel paused, and now Desmond shook his head.

 

“If you won’t do something, then I will. Next time we’re around Clive, I’m going to cause chaos that should throw him off. Reveal his true intentions.”

 

“Are you sure that’s safe, Desmond?”

 

“It’s safer for you, so it’s safe enough.”

 

“Now hold on, you’re my brother, and I don’t want you to be-”

 

“In harm’s way? Well Hershel, you’re my little brother, so it’s my job to look after you. We’ll figure this out and expose Clive.”


	5. Don’t worry, I just threw up my spleen

It had only taken an hour or so for the nausea to start setting in. Clive hated getting sick, especially when he was supposed to be orchestrating a mass scheme to become the most feared man in Red City. He didn’t have time for this, and he was getting snappy. As he walked through the base, he felt his body lurch slightly.

 

He was going to throw up if he wasn’t careful.

 

The man with Clive, someone who went by the name “Wreck”, seemed worried for him.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Fine, now fuck off. I’m going to my room,  _ alone. _ ”

 

“Awright, boss.”

 

Clive pushed ahead, and as soon as he had shut the door to his room, he dashed for the bin, throwing up pretty violently. As he held himself over the bin, feeling another wave of nausea come through him, Clive thought back to what had happened today that might’ve caused it.

 

Well, nothing came to mind, so Clive thought about what he’d eaten. He’d never had a reaction like this to what he’d eaten, so there was only one explanation in his eyes.

 

Poison, and a damn potent one at that.

 

As he threw up again, Clive only hoped he would be able to purge it from his system before it did long-lasting damage, but some part of him already told him it was too late.

 

He was in pain.

 

\--

 

Word had gotten around base quickly that Clive was sick, and basically his whole team knew that meant something bad. It had taken a few minutes to discuss what was the best plan of action, which resulted in someone being sent down to the cells where Layton and Co. were being kept.

 

“The blue one, send him up.” someone had said, so now Luke was being escorted to Clive’s room.

 

As Luke was pushed through the door, he heard a loud  _ thunk _ , kind of like someone hitting metal hard on something.

 

“I fucking said no-!” Clive began, only to be cut off as he threw up again.

 

He punched the wall again after that.

 

“Clive?” Luke spoke softly, and Clive whipped his head around.

 

“Luke?! Why are you-” Clive turned his head back and threw up again, before leaning back on his hands. “Up… here.”

 

“I-I was sent up. Are you alright?” Luke took a few experimental steps towards Clive, who seemed to have accepted what was going on.

 

“Alright? No, Luke, I’m afraid not.” he turned and flashed Luke a grin. “Poisoned.”

 

“Poisoned?!”

 

“Unfortunately so.” Clive paused and put a small white handkerchief to his mouth, coughing slightly. “Ah.”

 

The pristine white had turned a slight pink-red tinge, and a resigned laugh left Clive’s mouth, along with a little blood.

 

“So which of you was it? If I placed a bet on Emmy, would I be right?”

 

“I think it was her plan. Should I go check?”

 

“If you’d like to. It’ll give me time to think about what I’m supposed to say about this.”

 

As Luke left, Clive lurched forwards again, throwing up once more. It was more bloody this time, and as he returned to how he was leant, Clive felt a twinge of regret.

 

“Oi, Wreck!” Clive shouted as solidly as he could, and the man came into the room.

 

“...yea?”

 

“If I’m to die,  _ you _ are to let Layton and the rest of them go. If Luke comes back and stays longer, escort him to the edge of Red City. If any of them get hurt, I’ll haunt every waking moment of your life.” Clive let out a hiss of pain. “Now get out.”

 

Wreck left, and Clive was left in silence for a few minutes, thinking on what he should say to Luke.

 

“It was Emmy.” Luke said as he came through the door. “She befriended some of your team and convinced them…”

 

“My compliments to the chef, then!” Clive let out a pained laugh, before turning himself to Luke. “Listen, Luke. I don’t have much left in me, and there’s quite a few things I need to say.”

 

Luke sat by him, waiting for him to talk.

 

“I think I should begin with “I’m sorry.” It seems only fitting to start with that.” Clive looked at the floor as he spoke. “I’m sorry I never explained myself. Never told you that I was using you for my own gain. Never thought about all of you and what you were capable of- or even what I was capable of…”

 

“I’m certain my atrocities can’t be forgiven, but that’s okay. I regret my actions.” Clive paused for just a moment. “And I’m sorry for not telling you a secret of mine. One that Hershel worked out.”

 

“I am, or, by now, used to be the Titan. When I lost control, I went into the suit, and I could do anything I wanted. I was unstoppable. Put your hand out, Luke.” Clive waited for Luke to put his hand out.

 

As he did, Clive dropped something into his hand, before closing Luke’s hand around it. “Yours now.”

 

“Mine?”

 

“Mmhm. It’ll change to fit you. You can be the Titan I was, or… you can not. It’s up to you.”

 

Clive paused again.

 

“...can you tell Hersh I’m sorry too? It feels… wrong to not let him know that I’m sorry. I don’t know why.” Clive sighed a little more forcefully this time, and blood began to drip from his mouth. “Ahah… oh fuck.”

 

Luke didn’t really want to see Clive die. Up until the point he’d betrayed them- and even afterwards- he’d looked up to him. Thinking about his death was a little too much for him, witnessing it would be  _ far _ from what he wanted. Clive had gone silent now, gently wiping at his mouth with his now-stained red handkerchief.

 

Something about the way Clive was acting seemed… awfully calm. As if he’d already accepted what was to come. Upon noticing Luke watching him, Clive offered him a simple smile.

 

Luke was almost a little angry Clive was acting calmly.

 

“Something-” Clive was cut off by a sharp cough, and he only just managed to cover his mouth with his sleeve, spattering it with blood. “...ugh. Wrong?”

 

“Of course something’s wrong! You’re  _ dying! _ I can’t believe you’re so- so-”

 

“Nonchalant?” Clive’s laugh seemed weaker, more breathy. “I suppose I’ve accepted my fate now.”

 

“But- where’s  _ you?! _ You who’s always one step away from fighting, or- or shouting sudden insults, replying with snarky comments and- and-” Luke sort of paused. “Where’s the old Clive?”

 

With his next laugh, Clive couldn’t stop the blood from splattering onto the floor. “I’m still here, Luke. Don’t doubt that. I’m just fighting a losing battle.”

 

Clive fell from his hands onto his elbows with a soft grunt of pain. He didn’t even have the strength to hold himself there, but he tried to remain.

 

“Luke, keep yourself safe. Don’t get tangled with Red City. It’ll kill you in the end, like it has me.”

 

As Clive fell once more, his arms finally giving up, he said one last thing, mostly to himself.

 

“I should’ve given this place up when I had the chance…”

 

When he hit the floor, Luke knew he was gone. He sat where he was, silently thinking over their conversation. So many unanswered questions went through Luke’s mind, and he pushed them all away. As he stood up, someone came into the room and began escorting him out.

 

Luke took one last glance at Clive’s unmoving body, before starting to cry.


	6. Too late for you, Professor!

It was very early in the morning in Red City. Time was a little different here, and Hershel’s sleep pattern hadn’t lined up yet. Luke, Flora and Emmy’s had seemed to, but Hershel was laid down, awake and waiting for everyone else to wake up. It was completely silent aside from breathing, so Hershel sat up.

 

Wait a second. Where was Clive?

 

He was supposed to be watching over them and keeping them safe. Hershel hadn’t exactly trusted him when he said that where they were was completely safe. The banners on the walls worried him, it smelled as if something terrible had happened, and there were  _ very _ old bloodstains on the wall.

 

“Don’t think on it, Professor. These tunnels have been safe for years. I use them to get around, no one else knows about their existence.”

 

And sure, they’d been down here many times. Not once had anyone come near them, so it could have just been Hershel being paranoid. Red City wasn’t a place that Hershel felt safe in, and for good reason.

 

He stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to listen for anything.

 

For the first time while down here, he heard a voice. It was far away, but there was  _ definitely _ someone else down there with them. Maybe it was just Clive talking to himself, wherever he’d gotten to.

 

“So when’ll you be back?”

 

“Sometime soon, for sure. They want to leave Red City today, which is fair enough. I’ll be escorting them to the exit and I’ll be back at whatever time I get around.”

 

The second voice was definitely Clive, but the first one  _ wasn’t. _ And that actually terrified Hershel. Who was Clive talking with? Were they planning something?

 

_ Was he right all along? _

 

Hershel acted quickly, waking up Luke, then Flora, and then Emmy.

 

“Professor…? What’s-”

 

“I was right, Luke. Clive isn’t on our side.”

 

“I  _ knew it! _ ” Emmy whisper-shouted, glancing around. “So where is he? I’ll stomp him into dust!”

 

“I don’t know where he is, I could hear his voice. We have to get out of here, and quickly.” Hershel stood up, and the three followed suit.

 

“Hold on, where are our guns?” Emmy was looking through what they had, a frown on her face.

 

“Clive had them.” Flora glanced down one of the tunnels. “He’s really thought this one through.”

 

“Oh I’ll definitely kill him for this!”

 

\--

 

Clive could hear commotion from where he’d left Hershel and the rest of them.

 

“Wreck, get whoever you can to block off the entrances. Meet me at the main exit that they’ll be taking, and make sure you have guns. Tell everyone to push them towards that exit.”

 

“Gotcha.”

 

As Wreck ran off, Clive found himself reaching for his shotgun. He didn’t want to have to use it, but he didn’t know how the encounter might end. Clive had all their weapons, but being cornered was one hell of a drug to make you do dangerous shit. He knew that.

 

Making his way to the main exit, Clive waited in the dark.

 

\--

 

The four had noticed people waiting at every exit they had tried for, all loaded with guns. Whatever Clive had planned was becoming more and more obvious, and there was little to no chance of them getting out.

 

“We haven’t tried the main exit, but I doubt that we’d be able to…” Hershel trailed off, before shaking his head. “It’s worth a try.”

 

No one was really certain if it would be safe or not. On first glance, the area appeared completely free of people. Instantly, the four made a dash for it.

 

From the dark, Clive stepped out, levelling his shotgun.

 

“Going so soon,  _ Professor? _ ”

 

“You think you can stop us with that?! I’ll fucking show you!” Emmy ran forwards, only to collapse to the floor after a bang rang through the tunnels. “Fuck you!”

 

She’d been shot in the back of the leg. The rest of the people Hershel presumed were on Clive’s side stepped out of seemingly nowhere, all holding guns.

 

“You made the choice to run at me.” Clive shrugged.

 

Flora and Luke were already beside Emmy, who was  _ fuming. _

 

“Why this, Clive?” Hershel glanced down at Emmy, before back up to Clive.

 

“I needed someone to help me take out the teams stronger than mine. You’ve done a fantastic job of it, I must say. Kind of a pity…” he faded out, before shaking his head.

 

Then, he turned to his team. “Take them back to base, and get Emmy some medical attention.”


	7. Sure flashbacks are fun but how about reliving the past?

Clive had gained a surprisingly high rank in Justiciar quite quickly, showing his impulsiveness and adaptability off within the early days of him being in the group and getting him to a comfortable rank. He was in control of a small group of recruits, some he knew, and some who were newer than himself- who would be uncontrollable if Clive didn’t terrify them into listening.

 

It was how he’d been taught, and it’d worked into turning him into a functioning machine for Justiciar’s gain, and Clive didn’t care about the consequences. This team offered him everything he’d always wanted- friendship, a close familial bond with many people whom he could trust, and the ability to cause destruction whenever he so wished.

 

Clive had only one battlesuit at this point, but it was perfected. He’d spent time before entering into Red City to make it perfect. The rest of his team was coming up behind him with jet shoes as he jetted forwards with the suit’s boosters. They’d been set off on a mission to take down some of a different team- The Black Ravens. Clive slowed down as they approached an entrance that Clive himself had found, motioning for his group to follow.

 

“This way really safe? Seems a bit too open to me.” one of his group spoke rather loudly, and Clive threw an angered glance at them.

 

“Stay quiet.” was all he said, resolving not to get angry in such a place.

 

If he were too loud, then The Black Ravens would be alerted to their presence, which Clive wasn’t in the mood to deal with.

 

“I mean, I’m just saying. What if they find us here and kill us?”

 

God, Clive wasn’t in the mood for this.

 

“Listen, I don’t intend to die here. Or for my friends to die. For any of us. But you, you are by far the most expendable, so shut your fucking mouth.” Clive snapped out before he’d even thought about it. “Got any better plans, smartass?”

 

The recruit was taken aback for a moment, before frowning.

 

“Would  _ you _ prefer to take the lead?” without waiting for a reply, Clive pushed him forwards with his shotgun. “Go on. We’ll be  _ right behind you. _ ”

 

Clive couldn’t help the grin seep into his voice as he spoke. “Go on.”

 

Clive didn’t even know the name of this recruit, but if he was going to be like this, then Clive didn’t care to know. He was questioning his judgement- normally he’d have no problem with that and would take it up with them, but this man had chosen instead to  _ insult him _ \- and all about compromising the success of the mission.

 

He seemed apprehensive to move, so Clive gave him another shove with the barrel of his shotgun. “I said  _ go. _ ”

 

“Titanium, isn’t this a bit harsh?”

 

That was one of Clive’s  _ actual _ friends in the mission. He stepped back from the recruit, who quickly headed to the back of the group.

 

“I’m trying to prove a point, Xenon.” Clive lowered his shotgun slightly. “Now follow me.”

 

Moving slowly, Clive went first, swapping his shotgun out for a revolver. He couldn’t afford to be loud here. Using his right arm as a balance, Clive glanced around a corner. No one, luckily.

 

He motioned his group forward again, and they slowly proceeded through the area. It was safer than last time, Clive noted, as if they had stopped patrolling. Well, that or their numbers were too low.

 

Or they were planning an ambush ahead.

 

Clive turned back to Xenon and Bismuth, motioning that he was going to go ahead. There was a short conversation, asking why and what should be expected. Clive made no attempt to reply, simply moving forwards. The two glanced to each other and shrugged, halving the team and putting them off to the sides and waiting to hear from Clive.

 

Clive pushed on slowly, swapping back into his shotgun, realizing that there  _ had _ to be an ambush of sorts. There wouldn’t just be a completely empty way through to the heart of an outpost. He started to listen a little harder, trying to see if he could pinpoint  _ anything _ at all. It was starting to worry him, how empty the place was. Where would they be? Where  _ could _ they be?!

 

In front of Clive was the set of stairs he knew lead to the very center of the outpost. He wasn’t certain if he should go up alone. Glancing back, he made his decision. Going back would take too long, and turmoil would cause them to come running, so Clive made his way up them.

 

When he reached the top, he saw something he  _ really _ didn’t expect. An entirely different group was in control of the outpost- one Clive knew.

 

They called themselves the Azran. Clive thought it was pretty edgy, but he’d never say it near them, mainly because they’d kill him.

 

And unfortunately, they’d noticed him. A large metal bat was swung at his chest, and Clive was on his back, sliding down the stairs- luckily the back of his suit was completely flat- and he hit the bottom with little to no harm done.

 

Without any hesitation, Clive put his shotgun away, getting back to his feet and dashing back down the corridors.

 

“Retreat back!” he shouted to his team as he passed them, and they followed him back out into Red City’s open.

 

Xenon and Bismuth were beside him as they jetted back to base.

 

“What happened? I heard no gunshots-” Xenon began, but Clive cut them off.

 

“The Black Ravens weren’t there! It was the Azran- they’ve taken that outpost for themselves!”

 

“You’re joking. The Azran aren’t that dangerous, they can’t have just killed off The Black Ravens, Titanium!”

 

“I didn’t say they  _ had _ , but they’ve got that outpost, for certain! I’m not an idiot! I know what I saw!”

 

As Clive glanced backwards, he noticed that his team was being shot at. By the Azran, of course. Stopping himself, Clive made sure that Xenon and Bismuth took the team back to safety, as he began to shoot with his revolver. At long distance, it wasn’t coming to much, but all of the attention was turned away from his team.

 

Soon, however, Clive found more  _ physical _ items were being thrown at him. Knives, axes and- explosives. Putting his revolver away, Clive made a run for it. He grappled to the corner of a building, bringing himself in a wide arch around the side and dashing for an entrance into the underground tunnels that Justiciar stayed in.

 

As soon as he was back down, he turned his armour off, and Xenon approached him.

 

“Cobalt Blue wanted to talk to you after you said about the Azran being around.”

 

“Wait- what? Cobalt Blue?” Clive was almost confused.

 

Sure, of course the leader would want to know, but… to hear it  _ directly _ from him? Clive wasn’t certain if it was an honour or if it was straight up terrifying.

 

“Yeah, and from what I hear they don’t wanna be kept waiting. Go on!”

 

Clive nodded, weaving between other members of Justiciar, and heading towards Cobalt Blue’s room.

 

‘ _ They really want to hear it from me…? I’ve nothing to tell them, really! ' _


	8. BIG TITAN BULLSHIT

Clive had been working almost nonstop on new battlesuits after the warning had been issued. The Azran were causing havoc all over Red City, and basically nowhere was safe. People had been out of Justiciar a lot more, even outside of Red City. It was getting much too dangerous for anyone’s liking.

 

Clive felt that he couldn’t leave. This was all he had, it was basically his family. The latest battlesuit was virtually impenetrable. Laser shots would deflect off of it, the armour was thick enough to survive most blasts, including a muzzle flash from a shotgun. It also had a mass of weapons, including small missiles, and the ability to turn the arms into gatling guns.

 

This suit was unstoppable.

 

He’d called it the “Titan Suit”, after it’s abilities and his name in Justiciar, “Titanium”. He’d toyed with the name Juggernaut, but he thought that Titan suited better, what with the sleek shining silver of the suit. Juggernaut struck him more as a piecework suit. He was still yet to test it in full, but in simple checks such as maneuverability and firepower, it was already exceeding anything Clive had built before.

 

The Titan Suit was able to jet Clive forwards at alarming speeds, and his grappling hook made for quick movements through Red City. It also blocked his nametag from showing up even when in full view. It was completely unstoppable, and no one would know who was inside it unless it turned off, which it would only do if he died, and of course, it was hard to kill someone inside a suit made to keep them alive. If anything, it would just take a mass of blunt force to the skull in the hopes that it would crush something.

 

Luckily for Clive, no one in Red City, not even the Azran, had the capability of that. Clive retained his cautious nature despite this, just in case something surprised him.

 

Cobalt Blue had sent him out on a mission to  _ destroy any Azran members on sight. _ He was doing his scout-round of Red City, and so far, he’d seen nothing. Halfway through his trip, Clive decided to change his direction. He moved slower now, scanning whole streets, checking inside known outposts.

 

Nothing of the Azran yet. Nothing of… anyone.

 

The streets had been deathly quiet since the Azran began rising in the ranks. Something about them struck fear into everyone, even in Justiciar. Clive wasn’t sure if Cobalt Blue was just being cautious, or if they were genuinely fearful for their life.

 

Clive felt nothing but hatred towards the Azran. They’d been ambushing groups he’d been in- and groups he wasn’t in, trying to kill the higher ranking Justiciar members.

 

He’d already lost Bismuth, Xenon actually  _ left _ Justiciar, and Red City, and Clive wasn’t certain who was going to follow their footsteps.

 

There was movement in one of the nearby outposts. Clive could tell. Slowly making his way towards it, he readied his shotgun, raising the sights. His scans were telling him that there was at least three people in there, and he steeled his will, determination taking over.

 

He took a smoke grenade from his waist, tearing the pin and throwing it into the main area and grappling up through the window. Smoke filled the room, and Clive relied entirely on the sights within the Titan Suit, taking shots wherever an enemy was scanned. 

 

As the smoke dispersed, Clive glanced around the room. Everyone who was in there was dead or dying, and were definitely Azran. He recognised the sigil emblazoned on the banners, and tattooed on the people’s faces. Clive turned his attention to the stairs, walking backwards to the very back of the room. There were people on their way up.

 

Changing one arm into a gatling gun, Clive knelt down, turning “Sentry” as he called it. From behind the wall of metal, Clive waited. As the first few Azran recruits came up to the top step, Clive opened fire. There was a wild spray of bullets taking down everyone in its path, and Clive’s sensors went a little haywire. He stopped shooting for a few moments, just so it could rescan who was still alive.

 

Instead, he managed to catch a grenade as it sailed through the air towards him. Quickly changing his arm from a gatling gun to a shield, he tried to knock it away. Instead, it exploded on his arm- which, luckily, was covered with thick metal.

 

Clive wanted to test out his laser sword. Recovering from the blast, Clive returned his arm to the regular configuration, taking the base of his laser sword from his waist. He stood up tall, activating the sword and waiting for the Azran to come at him again.

 

They didn’t go up the stairs, so Clive went towards the stairs himself, turning his sword to a double blade and holding both blades outwards. Then, he jetted himself down the stairs. He reconnected the two blades into the main sword, swinging it wide around him as he hit the lower floor.

 

Clive had no idea if any of them were even still alive. His scans showed absolutely  _ no one. _ Turning his sword off, he jetted back outside, grappling around the corner, away from the scene of battle.

 

The suit was a massive success, Clive thought. It was not only able to survive the explosion from the grenade, but also instill fear into the second strongest team in Red City. He was proud.

 

‘ _ Maybe I should make suits like this for the whole team? _ ’ Clive thought as he finished his scout-rounds. ‘ _ I’m sure Cobalt Blue would agree! ' _


End file.
